


What could have been

by Jose2bJose



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abortion, Abuse, Alternate Universe - Muggle, Alternate Universe - Police, Angst, Anxiety, Blood and Gore, Flashbacks, Forced Abortion, Hurt/Comfort, Insomnia, M/M, Manipulative Tom Riddle, Mpreg, Paranoia, Physical Abuse, Police Officer Harry Potter, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Trans Harry Potter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:41:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22806487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jose2bJose/pseuds/Jose2bJose
Summary: Harry was out celebrating with his teammates at a pub after work when he met the charismatic Tom Riddle. They exchanged numbers and soon hit it off.  One thing lead to another and suddenly Tom ghosted Harry, only to return to finish what he had asked Harry to do.Can be read as ftm Harry or m!preg.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle, Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort
Comments: 5
Kudos: 91





	What could have been

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this fic in my drafts for a few years. When I read it for a friend she said I should publish it. And she doesn't even ship anything in HP. So enjoy the angst.
> 
> Ship(s): tom/harry, ron/hermione, implied ron/harry/hermione
> 
> Warnings: abuse, gory details, home abortion against will, sedatives, fighting, choking (non-sexual), attemped murder, blood, m!preg, mention of drinking

"WHAT?!" He yelled in anger as an empty glass hit the wall.

Harry squirmed as he tried to make himself smaller. He had just told his lover of three weeks that he was pregnant, and even if Tom didn't want children, he had hoped that he would change his mind when it happened.

Tom stood by the counter in the kitchen, his fists shaking in anger. "You're getting rid of it." He said in a deadly calm tone, his brown eyes almost as black as his hair.

Harry's own emerald green eyes flashed hurt. He was silent. "No." He stood up from the chair he had coveted in. "It's my child too and I'm not getting rid of him or her. I wa-" his speech was quickly cut off when Tom strode forward. Harry tumbled backwards, the chair he'd just sat in crashing to the floor. Tom towered over him, his hand reaching out. In a flash his fingers closed around the smaller man's neck, squeezing tight but not too much.

"I said: you are getting rid of it." He made sure to emphasise the three last words with a tighter squeeze of his hand.

Harry's eyes began to water as he gasped for air. He was choking and was already beginning to see the small black spots forming in his vision. The outline of the older male became blurry as he lost more and more of his sight, and he gasped louder, trying to get enough air into his lungs to stay awake. He feared what Tom might do once he lost consciousness, he might just kill him along with the newly forming baby in his stomach. Harry was afraid, very much so of cause and with the last of his energy he lashed out with his hands at Tom's face in fear and anger. If he was dying he'd take some of Tom's beauty with him. But it didn't go as well. He just felt the tips of his nails scratch the cheek of the man lightly before falling unconscious.

\---

(Three weeks earlier)

They meet at a pub, Harry for a work celebration, Tom for getting a beer a Friday night. Tom had laid his eyes on the smaller - but loud and cheerful - younger man as they began getting a few drinks. Harry had come over to the bar where Tom sat and ordered double shots for him and his colleagues. He had turned and send the most charming smile after Tom as he waited, not waiting to strike up a conversation about something. When Harry had got his shots he offered Tom to join in on the 'party' they were having over at their table. Tom had thanked no thanks, since he wasn't going to be getting drunk. He referred to feel the alcohol but not let it take control, he liked being in control, of himself, his thoughts and motions.

Harry had hurried to find his wallet and fished out a white piece of cardstock. He waved the bartender over and asked to borrow a pen. Tom looked on as the younger male squibled something on the white surface before handling it to him. He took the piece of cardstock slowly and looked at it. On the front, in black bold letters printed on it said 'London police department - Harry J. Potter'. He turned it over and saw a phone number written hastily with the blue pen from the barkeeper. "Gimme a call if you want." Harry had said as Tom have lifted one of his eyebrows ever so slightly. "You're hot, so if you ever feel like it, gimme a call." And with that, Harry was on his way back slowly to his colleagues, double shots on a tray in his hands.

\---

And Tom did call. He had hit it off with the younger male instantly. They'd meet for lunch Monday and talked for two hours, making Harry's boss annoyed at him for taking a too long lunch break. Harry had gotten a warning. And so Tom and Harry had agreed to just meet after work hours. Tom didn't work most of the week, only a few times once in awhile. But he never told Harry what he worked with. Harry didn't really mind, it wasn't his business to know where Tom was when he couldn't meet. But Harry did grow curious as the first week went, because Tom's work wasn't on a specific time of day, but whenever he got a text from a certain number.

Harry had noticed it a Saturday evening. He'd invited Tom to dinner and halfway through Tom had got a text and had to leave right then and there. He said he'd be back for maximum an hour and asked Harry to wait for him. Harry had nodded, agreeing with a small smile. They agreed to meet at a different spot so Harry wouldn't have to sit an hour at a restaurant alone with one finished and one half finished meal getting cold. And so Tom had left.

But Harry had noticed some things. One, the ring tone the incoming text had had was different from every other text he'd heard Tom receive. And then the time. Harry found it odd that Tom would be having work at this time, and then only for an hour. It seemed a bit weird for Harry, but he didn't think much of if until later.

They had decided to meet at Hyde Park. It was about a 5 to 10 minutes walk from the restaurant and Harry didn't mind the walk. Being alone and without too much traffic he arrived at the park in only four minutes, save the time it took to get to the spot at the central entrance of the park. Harry arrived about 50 minutes after Tom had left Harry at the restaurant, paying the bill too. It didn't really bother Harry that much, he'd been planning to anyway.

Tom joined him 18 minutes later, arriving in a run. He was out of breath when he stopped at Harry's side, slightly sweaty and without the jacket he'd been wearing earlier. Harry's police instincts was ringing and he was alert from Tom's strange behaviour. He helped Tom get his breath back all the while keeping an eye on people getting through the gate. After ten minutes or so, and Tom with Harry's smaller jacket over his shoulders to try and make sure the sweat didn't freeze him down the back, Tom reached into his back pocket and drew out a large stack of £20 bills. "How much was dinner?" He asked, his voice a little bit rough after the run.

"No need to pay me back," Harry said and laid his hand on Tom's that was about to take out a couple of bills. "I had planned to pay anyway, so you don't need to worry about it."

Tom's hand had freezed in motion as Harry's touched it. He was looking at him, his blank face not matching Harry's smiling and warm one. But behind the younger man's eyes he saw the thoughts turning.

Harry was not alert of his surroundings anymore but of the man in front of him. That stack of £20 bills was thick, thicker than one should own beside as an emergency stash. And with the things he'd noticed earlier his mind was cooking up a theory of the man in front of him.

Tom grabbed the bills and put them back into his back pocket. He then reached up and cupped Harry's cheek and leaned in to kiss him. He gave Harry just enough time to see it coming and to turn away. But he didn't and Harry and Tom kissed for the first time in the central entrance of Hyde Park a Saturday evening.

\---

The next morning Tom was gone, leaving a naked Harry in a cold bed by the time he'd woken up. Harry was sad but probably should have seen it coming. Tom was too good for him anyway, with his dark brown eyes, his silky black hair with a natural blue tint, his high cheekbones and strong jaw. With his soft fingers that held Harry so gently last night and ... Harry shook his head, he couldn't dwell on it. He might have been the one to give Tom his number first, but he'd ended up being the one thrown away apparently.

Harry went into his kitchen, rounded the small kitchen island with ease. He turned on the kettle and found milk and a mug without much trouble. When the water had boiled he made his tea and left it to brew for a few minutes. Meanwhile he went to find his glasses.

With his glasses on he went back into the kitchen and discovered a note on the island that he must have walked by in his blindness before. He picked it up.

"Dear Harry.

I very much enjoyed our evening last night and wanted to stay to tell you in person, but something came up that I had to take care of.

\- Tom."

Well, that explained why he woke up alone. Harry smiled at the memory of last night's date. He'd really enjoyed it too. Even if Tom have had to leave for a short while.

\---

When Harry woke up again he laid on the kitchen floor, slumped against the wall. He sat up, his back hurting from the way he'd been sitting. He then coughed as he tries taking a deep breath. His hand reaches for his neck, the memory of Tom choking him returning to the forefront of his mind. He wasn't dead, Tom hadn't killed him and the baby. He hurried to get up and searched his apartment for the older man but he wasn't to be found. That's when he noticed his phone blinking, indicating that he had a message he hadn't read. He opened it and found the message. It was from Tom and he felt a chill run through him. 'If you don't get rid of it, I will' the message said. Harry shook as his eyes glazed over. He had really believed Tom to be a good man that cared for him but it seemed like he had been wrong.

Harry took a deep breath and opened a new text and wrote to one of his friends.

\---

"You should probably stop seeing him," Hermione said softly as she held Harry's hand, their shoulders touching as she offered him comfort. She'd been a friend for a long time and had such a big heart that she always was there when Harry needed to talk.

"I know," Harry sighed as he laid his head on her shoulder. "But I really thought he was different. He always hurried to finish his work to be with me, and he isn't shy about wanting to spoil me even if I say he shouldn't. And now I'm pregnant." Harry tried to hold back a sob and almost succeeded. "He tried to kill me, Mione. He choked me when I told him and he said I should get rid of him or her or he would do it himself." He sobbed. "I don't want to abort, what if it ruins my already slim chances of getting pregnant again?" Hermione held her friend close as he began crying. She shh'ed him and told him that it was okay. She told him that he could get him locked up for attempted murder and once he was gone he could raise his child safely.

\---

Saturday went by and Hermione stayed the evening to cook something for her heart broken and scared friend.

Besides from the attempted murder on him he told her about his suspension of what Tom was, how he always had money after he'd been on a job and how these jobs could be anywhere and any time of the day. Once Harry actually seen Tom get back with a large bruise on his chest but he'd assured him that nothing was broken, just that he was sore.

With these two incidents and all the other things, Harry began thinking that Tom might be a criminal. But the person that held Harry gentle while having sex and spoiled him with small but lovely gifts like candy was hard to put into the role of a criminal, maybe even a killer. It just didn't seem like him at all. Could he - a police officer - really have fallen for a criminal?

\---

(Three months later)

"Hello Harry," he said as he sat down at Harry's desk. Said man looked up from his paperwork and froze when he saw who was sitting in front of him.

"Tom..." he managed to say. He then coughed and tried again. "Tom. What brings you here?" He asked, slightly worried if the other could still happen to assault him in front of his colleagues.

"I just wanted to see how my princess is doing and if he did as I told him to." Tom replied. His tone was cold and the nickname that Tom had given him in the bedroom made his stomach turn. The man's gaze travelled down Harry's body and even though he sat behind his desk his baby bump was still visible. Harry gulped and refrained himself from laying a protective hand over his belly. He had to seem strong, even if his eyes might show terror.

While Tom looked down, Harry's eyes flaked, trying to get eye contact with someone who could help him. But his luck was out, everyone was busy with their own case or paperwork. He hurried to set his eyes on Tom again when he looked back up. "I see you didn't." He hummed dangerously low and cold, just for Harry to be able to know what he said. He then stood and left a scared Harry behind without another word.

\---

"Let me go!" Harry yelled, thrashing and trying to get out of Tom's hold on his arm. Harry was panicking because Tom had a syringe in one hand and tried to poke Harry with it. "Tom stop! Please!" He cried as he trashed more. Tom janked Harry closer to try and stop the trashing. He decided to put the syringe on the kitchen island and grabbed Harry with both hands. He locked the smaller man's arms with one strong hand tightly around both of Harry's wrists in front of him. He reached for the syringe again but Harry - after a few deep breaths to calm himself a little - threw himself forward into Tom's body, getting both of them thrown away from the island and syringe. Harry tried rolling away from Tom but the other hadn't loosened the grip on his wrists in the fall as he had hoped for. Harry had police training but wasn't very much in this kind of situation, so he wasn't as fast as he needed to be against his former lover. As he tried to get his legs in between them to try and kick him off, Tom was faster and pulled Harry close by his wrists. He crawled on top of the other, getting the control. His hand came down and caressed Harry's cheek. "Careful of the baby now, princess."

Harry almost gagged at the name Tom was now using for him mockingly. Hurt and fear flashed in his eyes. "What is it for you?" He spat, narrowing his eyes. "You don't want them, so why do you insist on getting rid of them?" He was arching, his shoulder hurting from where it had been dragged over the floor and his body from the fight. "Just leave me alone and you'll never hear from me again." Harry tried convincing him, trashing a bit in the hold, his wrist and hands hurting. When Tom didn't answer he tried again: "Please, just let me have them!" He now cried. His head slumped to the side a bit as he squeezed his eyes to try and keep the tears from spilling, his fists banging weakly on Tom's chest. "Please let me have a family."

Tom looked down at Harry, the young man who usually was so cheerful and happy was now begging for his unborn child's life. Or children, since Harry used them and not it. He had to make sure both were taken care of then.

"Don't you care about me? For me?" Tom asked in a silken but dangerous voice. "Don't you care for my wishes?" The grip on Harry's wrist tightened painfully and the police officer whimpered. "You must care about me or you would have gotten me arrested three month ago, wouldn't you? But that's right, you couldn't find me. You checked everywhere; the pub, the restaurant, the park, everywhere we have been together. But you've never been to my place, so you couldn't check there. You might have tried to check if you could locate me by my phone, but you couldn't. Even now you still want answers, right?" He asked but Harry didn't answer, he was too scared. "RIGHT?!" Tom yelled into his face, shaking him by his wrist, the hand on his cheek fisting itself in Harry's shirt.

Harry cried out in terror and tried to shake his head and nod at the same time. He was so scared. He didn't know this Tom, the Tom who tried to take his unborn baby and yelling at him, maybe even kill him. He was sure Tom could if he wanted, but he'd be dead three months ago if that was the case, right?

It was true that Harry had searched for Tom, to ask why he didn't want Harry to keep the child. Why he'd almost killed him. He have had his gun with him all of the time, just to make sure. He'd been a bit caught up in it at first, earning another warning from his boss, but he couldn't tell his boss his situation or the case would be grand, and with his as a witness. And so the three months had went by without a trace of Tom anymore.

A fist hit Harry in the face as he still didn't answer and Tom got tired of looking at the male thrashing and crying. "Stop your crying, it's annoying." He simply said as he leaned back up. "Harry." He said in a nice tone, getting the other's attention. When Harry looked at him with red eyes he continued. "Don't move."

Harry hiccupped as he tried to stop crying on Tom's command. When said man released his wrist and stood up he ended up wasted a second before hurrying up to get away. He screamed when a hand grabbed his black hair hard and janked him onto his side. He curled protectively around his belly the best he could with his head lifted by a fistful of hair. "I thought I gave you an order." Tom said, his voice so dark and cold that Harry started crying again with his body shaking. He was pulled by his hair back to the kitchen island, having to crawl or it hurt to much.

"Tom, please- aaargh!" He cried out as he was pulled upward hard. He was allowed down again short after but his hair wasn't released.

Tom was slowly losing his patience with the younger man. He held out the syringe as he knelt in front of him. He janked his hair and grabbed his arm while the pain occupied his thoughts. He stretched Harry's arm out and positioned the needle against the skin.

When Harry realised what Tom was doing it was too late and the liquid inside the syringe was pushed into his bloodstream. He looked at Tom. "What - what did you just give me?" He cried out, only just waiting for the needle to get out and away before he lashed out toward Tom. "You psychopath! You just drugged me, didn't you?!" He screamed at the man. "What did you give me?!" Harry was trashing again in Tom's strong hold, panicking as he didn't know what to do, what he was injected with just now.

Tom didn't say anything. He just looked on with a stone face as Harry used his remaining energy. And soon enough the younger slumped down onto the floor, unconscious from the drug.

Tom pushed him off of him and stood up. He grabbed Harry by his arm and around the chest, hoisting him up on the kitchen island. He laid him down with his legs hanging over the edge. He went into the entrance and collected his bag. Inside it he found a pair of rubber gloves that he put on, a long metal rod and another metal instrument. He then went over between Harry's legs and got to work.

\---

Everything was blurry and hurt, like if his whole body was filled with sluggish liquid. He tried to move his arm to grab his head and found it hard to really tell if it was his own arm he was moving. Light flooded his vision when he opened his eyes and it made his head hurt even more, making it close to impossible to think actual thoughts.

As he slowly woke up the pain in his limbs started to fade to a prickling, but around his lower body the pain intensified. Harry lifted his heavy head and looked down himself with bleary eyes, taking a second to notice what was wrong with what he was seeing.

There was blood drying on his shirt, stomach and thighs. And his baby bump was gone. A sharp pain ran through him as he unconsciously tried to clench a muscle in his lower abdomen and he cried out loudly, his voice raspy. Everything started flooding his mind as his brain fog from the sedatives slowly cleared up and the realisation of what Tom had done hit him hard and sending him into shock.

There was sounds coming from outside his apartment but he didn't notice. He felt sweaty and disgusting, he was starting to hyperventilate and felt like he couldn't breath. Each shallow raspy breath tugged at destroyed tissue and nerve endings inside him and it only made him bleed more.

This was how Ron and Hermione found him. Skin losing colour, his eyes dilated and swimming, hardly breathing enough oxygen in between cries and hiccups.

Hermione took the lead, grabbing tea towels and shoved them into Ron's hands and told him to stop the bleeding best he could while she called 911.

Neither of them mentioned the open cupboard with the rubbish bin inside it with the bloody chunks of flesh that once was Harry's unborn child.

\---

(1 year later)

Harry had ended up moving into Ron and Hermione's small house, getting the guest room made over for him to live in. He no longer felt safe alone, not even behind locked doors and had been diagnosed with PTSD with paranoia, anxiety, and insomnia since the incident. He was currently on sick leave from his work and in therapy. His boss came by with a couple of months in between to check up on him. He never stayed long.

Hermione had taken the day off in advance, knowing what the date might cause when Harry noticed it and she rather not return home to him having tried to slit his wrists too deep again.

As the hours went by, the two of them spend the day with a short walk to the kiosk just round the corner, and afterward just cuddled up on the sofa watching either tv or netflix. Hermione occasionally got up to make them something to eat and get water, making sure they both remembered to eat.

Harry knew the date. He'd been watching the days slowly tick by all week. He didn't know how he was supposed to react. He mostly just ended up crying a couple of times throughout the day. Other than that it was just a mix of silent mourning for what could have been and his thoughts spiralling. A few times he told Hermione thanks for letting him live with them. She replied as she always did, with an "Ofcause, Harry, what else could we do?"

When it got later and Ron returned from work, he had take-out with him, as agreed with Hermione that neither of them wanted to make dinner that night. Their focus was on Harry.


End file.
